Page 143 of Ripped & Shipped
Drake wants to tell me a secret. So what?
Is he coming on to me, or am I reading into things?
Yeah, he’s acting flirty. But maybe that’s just his way of interacting with everyone. He’s probably used to snapping his fingers or just looking at a woman, and having her pant at the sight of him. I can easily see why. He’s famous, wealthy, and gorgeous. It’s the male trifecta.
But really, it doesn’t matter what he’s used to. I’m getting full-blown creeper vibes from Drake.
I decide on the best course of action: calling Meg.
“Hey, beach bunny! How’s it going?” Meg squeals into the line when she answers.
I whisper my answer. I figure Drake’s out on his patio, but I don’t know if he came inside after me.
“I’m at Drake’s,” I say in such a soft voice, Meg has to ask me to repeat myself.
When she makes out what I’m saying, she asks, “Why are you whispering?”
I explain the whole situation from the valet greeting me—even though I’m the only guest so far—to the hug, to the whole conversation on the couch.
“You need to get out of there,” Meg says. “And, are you sure that was a valet? Maybe someone just stole your rental!”
“It’s the valet. Drake waved to him before he shut the door behind me,” I whisper.
“Here’s your clue,” Meg says. “You’re locked in a bathroom, whispering. Does that scream,I’m feeling super safe right now? No. No, it does not. I don’t think he’s about to attack you, but who knows what he’s going to try.
“You need an exit plan, and pronto. Come back tomorrow when the party’s in full swing. Tell him you forgot you scheduled a quick meeting with someone there in LA today, and your time is full right up until the party. Then hightail it away from that house until you have some people there to buffer you from that guy.”
I keep my voice soft and private. “That’s not a half-bad idea. Thanks.”
“No problem. I’m so glad you called.”
“Me too.”
“And, Ella Mae?”
“Yeah?”
“Nothing is worth letting him treat you badly or push himself on you. You know that, right?”
“Of course I do. This all came out of left field. I really think he still wants to help me get connected. He probably just wants to press his luck with me if he can.”
“Welp. His luck just ran out.”
“Sure did.”
I hang up with Meg, flush the toilet and run the faucet for effect, and then I head back through the kitchen out onto the patio.
“I just got a call,” I tell Drake. “I’m so sorry. I totally forgot a meeting I had set up while I’m out here. I’ll be back tomorrow night for the bash. How do I get my keys back?”
“Seriously? You’re leaving? What meeting could be more important than hanging here for the afternoon? I thought we’d get to know one another a little better.”
“I appreciate all that, Drake. But,” I wave my hand around in some sort of gesture, trying not to look just shy of hysterics. Who knows what I look like. “I’ve gotta run.”
I start to walk toward the front door to emphasize my words.
“Keys?”
“Yeah. I’ll get Serge.”
